Chalk It Up To History
by Daughterof8
Summary: Trixie is upset, so she goes over to the Manor House to talk to Honey. But Honey isn't the only one home...


**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, although I so wish I could own Jim!**

Fury burned bright in Trixie's blue eyes as she climbed onto the school bus and plopped down in the first seat that was available. She sat with her arms crossed tightly in front of her, and she glared fiercely at the seat in front of her. She was aware that the other Bob-Whites were already seated in the back of the bus, but she was too mad to go sit with them. Besides, she'd probably just get teased.

She sat in silence the entire ride, and when the bus reached Crabapple Farm, she quickly got off before the other Bob-Whites. She hesitated outside, unsure if she wanted to go straight to the Farm or into the preserve to walk out her anger, but she hesitated too long. Mart caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

"Hey, Squaw, why didn't you come sit with us in the back of the bus?" Mart asked, deciding to forego his usual wordplay and get straight to the point.

Trixie yanked her arm away. "'Cause I didn't want to," she muttered.

Mart looked at her closely. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She glared at him. "Nothing," she said harshly. She spun around and strode angrily into the farmhouse.

Mart stood where she had left him, bewildered. When he heard the bus pull away behind him, he shook himself and walked slowly up to the farmhouse.

Trixie changed her clothes up in her bedroom. She slipped quietly out of the house and walked to the Manor House. She rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer.

"Trixie? Come on in," Celia said, holding the door open.

"Thanks, Celia. Is Honey up in her room?"

"Yes, I believe she is. Would you like me to get her, or do you want to go up there?"

"I'll go up." Trixie quickly walked up the stairs to Honey's bedroom. When she reached the door, she carefully controlled herself from pounding on the door with all her might, and instead knocked lightly. "Honey? Can I come in?"

"Trixie?" Honey opened her door. "Come in. What's the matter?"

Trixie looked at her, startled. "How did you know something is wrong?"

Honey shrugged. "Oh, I don't really know. I mean, all you did was sit sullenly in the front of the bus, avoid us, and then bite Mart's head off when he asked you a simple question."

Trixie gave a weak smile. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Miss Wheeler."

"And poutiness and anger doesn't suit you, Miss Belden," Honey returned. "So, what's up?"

"I'll tell you what _isn't _up," Trixie groused. "My history grade. You know how I always complained about math? Well, now I understand math okay—"

"Thanks to my brother's wonderful tutoring in math," Honey put in.

"—but now history is the bane of my existence," Trixie said, trying to fight the blush that wanted to appear.

"Well, you could always ask Jim to help you with it," Honey suggested slyly. "I'm sure he'd love to."

"Honey!" Trixie hissed, becoming even redder. "I'm sure that Jim is much too busy at college to help me with something as simple as history. Well, simple for him."

Honey sobered. "No, I honestly don't think he is, Trix. I mean, he and Brian are coming home almost every weekend again this year, and I don't hear much about his social life."

Trixie snorted. "Probably 'cause he's having so much fun that he doesn't have time to tell you about it."

"Well, let me ask you this, Trixie," Honey began. "About how often does Jim email you, and how long are his emails?"

"Um…well, I guess I probably get an email from him every other day," Trixie stuttered. "Maybe more often. And they're usually a few paragraphs long."

Honey frowned. "Really? I didn't know it was that much. I get maybe two or three emails from him a week, and those are always about three or four paragraphs long."

"See? He doesn't write much. He has a social life." Trixie flopped onto Honey's bed.

A smile played at the corners of Honey's mouth. "Ah, yes, but if he had as much of a social life as you thought he did, how would he have time to email you so often? And how would he have time to write really long emails to you? And why would he come home so much?"

"I don't know. He's lost so much in his life already that he wants to make sure that he makes time for us? Anyway, I'm positive he has a social life that consists of parties and pretty girls, and you're not going to convince me otherwise," Trixie stated firmly.

"Could he convince you otherwise?" Honey wanted to know.

Trixie hesitated. "Well, yeah, I guess he probably could," she said finally. "But he's the only person who could."

"Okay." Honey stood over Trixie and pointed towards the hallway. "Go ask him about his social life and see what he says."

Trixie stared up at Honey. "What are you talking about? Isn't Jim— oh my gosh, Jim is _home?_"

Honey grinned. "Yes, he is, and I think he's currently in his room on his computer."

Trixie jumped off the bed. "I didn't know he was home! Didn't he and Brian come home together?"

"He said they did."

Trixie frowned. "I wonder why I didn't see Brian at the Farm, then," she murmured. "Oh well. Not important. I want to go say hi to Jim."

"Wait, Trix." Honey took Trixie by the arm. "Are you going to ask him?"

"Ask him what?"

"About helping you, and about his social life."

"Helping— oh. You actually managed to take my mind off of history for a while. No, I'm not going to ask him either of those things."

"Why not?" Honey demanded. "You need help, and you want to know about his social life. You're his friend. You can ask him these things."

"But I don't want to."

"Trixie, come on. Jim's the only one that you can stand tutoring you, and you need help. And you want to know about his social life."

Trixie groaned. "I _don't _need his help. I already needed his help with math. If I have to ask him about history, I'll look even more stupid. And his social life is his own business."

"Trixie." Honey pulled Trixie out of the room and down the hall until they were in front of Jim's door. "At least talk to him about history and his social life, okay? I don't want to be mean, but Trix, history's really frustrating you. I guess if you don't want to ask Jim about helping, you don't have to, but at least ask somebody who can help. And his social life? Well, I kinda want to know about that myself. I want to know if he's dating anyone."

Trixie scowled at that remark. "Fine. I'll ask him. And, by the way, how do you know that he isn't on the other side of this door listening to our every word?"

"I don't," Honey answered simply. At that moment the door opened, and Jim stood in front of them.

Trixie turned red. "Uh, hey, Jim. Honey was just telling me that you were home for the weekend," she said weakly.

Jim grinned. "Yeah, I'm sure she was."

Trixie groaned. "You did hear what we were saying, didn't you."

Jim nodded. "Yeah. You two aren't exactly quiet. So…you had a couple of questions for me, Trix?"

Neither of the two noticed Honey silently slipping down the stairs.

Trixie coughed. "Uh…well…kind of." She shifted her feet. "You see, history has been driving me nuts at school, and Honey said that I should ask you for help, but, I mean, you must be pretty busy with college and all, not like when you were helping me with math, so if you can't help me, that's okay, I can have Mart or Dan or someone at school help me, so—"

"Trixie," Jim interrupted. "I can help you. It's honestly no problem."

"But Jim, don't you have a lot going on at school?" Trixie asked. "I don't want to bother you."

"Shamus, you could _never _bother me," Jim replied. He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against his doorway.

Trixie looked up at him. "Are you sure? I _really _hate history."

"I'm sure. When did you want me to help you? Right now?"

Trixie made a face. "No. I just want to forget about history today."

Jim cocked his head. "What happened?"

Trixie's face hardened. "Nothing," she bit out. "Nothing important."

"Are you sure?" Trixie saw sincere concern in his emerald green eyes, and for a moment she was tempted to throw herself at him and tell him what was bothering her. She took a step forward, but then she checked herself.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Trixie abruptly turned and made a move to walk away, but Jim grabbed her arm. "What?"

"Were you going to ask me something else?" Jim asked quietly. "I heard Honey say something about wanting to know if I was dating anyone."

Trixie immediately turned a fiery red. She silently cursed the red pigment in her face. "Yeah, I think Honey wanted to know about that."

"Do _you _want to know about it?" His eyes bored into her.

"Yes," Trixie whispered.

A smile broke out on his face. He shook his head. "There's nothing to tell about it, Trix. I've gone out with groups of friends – and yes, they did include girls – but I haven't dated anyone exclusively. Heck, if it hadn't been for some friends setting me up, I wouldn't have gone on any dates at all."

Trixie's eyes lit up. "Really?" she asked shyly.

"Really, Trix. And do you want to know why I haven't dated at all?"

Trixie felt her breath quicken. "Why?"

"I was waiting." He paused. "Waiting for you."

"For me?"

"Yeah." Jim ran a hand through his hair. "I was waiting for you to show an interest in me."

Trixie stared at him in disbelief. "Show an interest in you?" she echoed. "I've been showing an interest in you since I was thirteen years old!"

Jim colored. "You have?"

"Yeah. I just didn't know if you returned the interest."

Jim shook his head. "Geez, we are such a pair. I've wanted to go out with you since I was fifteen."

Trixie's jaw dropped. "Gleeps. I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Apparently." He ran his hand through his hair again. "So…does that mean…that you'd go out with me?"

Trixie grinned at him. "If you asked."

He grinned back. "In that case…will you be my girl, Trix, and go out with me?"

Trixie's sapphire blue eyes sparkled. "Yes, I'll be your girl, and I'll go out with you, Jim."

"That's great," he said softly. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he pulled her closer to him and tilted her face up. "Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask, Jim. Just do it," Trixie responded just as softly.

Jim slowly lowered his mouth to hers, and as soon as their lips touched Trixie slipped her arms around his waist. He held her tighter, and after a few moments they pulled apart.

Trixie gazed up at him with adoration in her eyes. He smiled softly down at her. "I have been dreaming of that for years, and it was even better in real life."

"Yeah. Me too," Trixie answered. They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and then Trixie reluctantly stepped out of his arms. "I don't know where Honey went, but she's probably wondering what I'm doing. I should probably go find her."

"I guess so." Jim watched her fidget for a second, and then he said, "Do you want to tell me what happened in history today?"

Trixie stared at the floor. "It's nothing," she muttered.

"Trix, if you want to talk about it, I'll listen. I promise I will."

She looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "You wouldn't understand. You've always been smart. You haven't been made fun of for being stupid."

"You are not stupid," Jim said firmly. "And who's to say that I wouldn't understand?"

Trixie shook her head. "You just wouldn't. Jim, you haven't ever studied really, really hard for a test and then still fail it, and then be made fun of because you're dumb."

"I can't say that I know how you feel, because you're right – I haven't ever been in that position. But I'll still try to help." Jim glanced around his room, and made a decision. "If you want to tell me more about it, we can go downstairs into the den."

Trixie shook her head again. "No. I don't really want to talk about it anymore." She sighed. "But I do need help. Would you…could you help me with it when you're home?"

"Of course, Shamus. I'll always help you." He tugged her curl. "What do you say we go find Honey, and then head over to your place? Brian said something about having a barbeque tonight."

Trixie nodded her head. "Okay. But first…Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Trixie said simply.

"You are welcome, Trix," Jim replied. Before leading her down the stairs, he grabbed her and planted a soft kiss on her lips. As she gazed up at him, he grinned and said, "You are always welcome in my heart."

**A/N: So maybe it's not exactly realistic that Trixie would have trouble with history, of all things, but I was very frustrated (okay, I was angry) with it at the time, so that's what I made her have trouble with. And maybe Jim and Brian wouldn't come home that often, and maybe the ending was corny, and maybe…well, anyway. Let's just say that I have the creative writer's license :) Thanks for reading, and remember to review!**

**Thanks to my friend Lilly for editing! You're the best!**


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